Wesker's New Life
by Mawsh
Summary: Wesker has killed Chris and Sheva, but before he can ensure Complete. Global. Saturation. he has a change of heart and decides to begin a new life for himself. Not so easy, however, when you are evil. Hilarity ensues and people die.
1. Pilot

(I OWN NOTHING.)

**Wesker Lives His Life**

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**Pilot**

"My Kingdom for a Cheeseburger!"

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"Chris!" Sheva exclaimed, watching in horror as Wesker advanced on Chris with superhuman speed and drove his hand clean through the BSAA agent's chest.

"Ooooh." Wesker laughed at Chris' pained expression. "Should'a called in sick today, buddy."

"Bastard…" Chris grimaced as Wesker withdrew his hand, covered in blood. "You're just a sick monster."

Wesker blinked at him. "What do you know of my work?"

Chris hit the ground, dead and Wesker laughed triumphantly. He put his fists on his hips and titled his head up, laughing even louder.

"You son of a bitch!" Sheva shouted, pointing her gun at Wesker and interrupting his laughing fit.

Wesker turned to Sheva and sneered. "I forgot about you. For heroes you two have filthy mouths. It's rather unbecoming for a young woman such as yourself."

Then he lifted a hand, curled it into a fist and punched a large red button on his side. Sheva inched back as a siren sounded and red lights bathed the cargo bay with a scarlet hue. Behind them the hatch of the plane began to slowly open, the roar of wind almost deafening.

Sheva fired a shot at Wesker, who moved out of the way so fast he was nearly a blur. The shot pinged off the wall behind him as he advanced on the woman.

She took another step back, clearly frightened. Her boot touched the ground and there was a loud _crunch_ following it.

Wesker and Sheva both stopped what they were doing and looked down. Beneath her boot were the shattered remains of Wesker's sunglasses.

"Oh." Was all Wesker said upon seeing the destruction of his only friend in this world: his sunglasses.

He looked up at Sheva, who looked at him speechless. "You realize I _am_ going to kill you now, right?"

With amazing strength Wesker grabbed the BSAA agent by her throat with one hand and, with the other, lifted her high above his head.

He turned towards the open hatch on the plane and said. "Well, this is your stop."

Wesker heaved and threw her out of the plane with only a fraction of his strength. It was enough, however, to propel her a considerable distance into the dark skies behind them.

He laughed once, putting a hand over his eyes in a mocking salute. "Ah, Chris, I'm sure she will be missed."

Grinning nearly from ear to ear, Wesker walked to Chris' body and wedged his foot beneath his body. He then unceremoniously kicked him off the plane as well.

Wesker patted his hands together, signifying a job well done. He then punched the button and closed the hatch before making his way back to the cockpit.

Once in the pilot's seat Wesker reached over and buckled himself in. "Safety first."

"Unidentified Bomber." A stern voice crackled over the comm. channel on the plane. "This is the United States Air Force. You are in violation of American air space. You have three seconds to comply and surrender before we are forced to shoot you down."

Wesker smiled and leaned back in the chair, folding his hands and placing them behind his head as he relaxed. Soon it will all be over, soon the world would be infected with Uroboros and he would rule over it as a GOD.

"Three seconds." The voice said.

Ah, he wondered what he would do first in the new world. Clearly this explosion wouldn't kill him. He surmised nothing short of being shot in face with two rockets _at the same time _while slowly melting inside a giant volcano could kill him.

_First things first, _he thought. _I'll open up Fort Knox and melt down all the gold to make a giant throne. It'll have a HUGE W and I'll put it somewhere nice. Somewhere near a lot of restaurants. _

"Two seconds. If you do not comply we will be forced to shoot you down. You will not have a second chance."

_But even before that I'll have a cheeseburger. I haven't had a cheeseburger in, like, __**forever.**_

Wesker froze. If everyone was dead or some sort of higher evolutionary form, then who the hell is going to make him a cheeseburger? Or, for that matter, any food? Sure, Wesker didn't need food, but he'll be damned if he didn't enjoy eating. With his new world he would be a GOD, but, then again, what's a god without his cheese burgers?

"One Second." The voice said. "Preparing to fire."

Wesker jumped to a sitting position, he leaned forward and jammed his finger on the comm. button. "This is Albert Wesker of the _St. Wesker _class bomber. I'm standing down and ready to surrender, over."

There was a long moment of silence before the voice came back on the comm. "Roger that. We'll flag you down to an airfield. If you do not comply, we will open fire. Over."

Wesker sighed. Well, this threw a wrench into things. He was dead set on becoming a god and, when the moment came, he decided against it. He would get his giant, gold W throne yet, but it would have to wait. With that thorn in his side Chris Redfield gone for good when he DID decide to enact his plan it would go through, flawlessly.

Until then, it wouldn't hurt to have a cheeseburger and live his life a little.

Wesker leaned over and looked outside the windows on _St. Wesker_. He saw two fighter jets and, ahead, the airfield they were waving him to land on.

Of course, going to prison would be a problem. He had never been to prison before and he wondered how easy it would be for someone as amazing as he to break out. _Probably _not hard at all.

He would take care of the pilots before that ever happened, though, so no worries. All he needed was his shot.

Wesker patted down the front of his coat where he kept a spare syringe. Empty. He patted down his side pockets, then unlatched his seat belt and checked the hidden pockets on his coat. Nothing!

"Oh dear." Wesker said aloud. "Looks like prison _will_ be a problem after all."

**To Be Continued.**

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NEXT TIME ON WESKER LIVES HIS LIFE: **WESKER BEHIND BARS!**

"Come on, white trash!" The large black inmate growled at him, holding up his fists and ready for a fight. "Lets see what your skinny ass can do."

"Are you a lawyer?" Wesker asked, lifting his fists up nonchalantly.

The inmate tilted his head at the question. "What?"

Wesker advanced immediately and drove his foot in the inmates chest. The inmate was knocked back, his head bouncing against the prison bars with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the floor, dead.

"Because you just failed the **bar!" **Wesker sneered, pleased with himself.

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Thanks for reading, please review!


	2. Wesker Behind Bars! Part One

(I own nothing owned by Capcom. Hah!)

_Wesker's New Life_

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_

_Episode One: __**Wesker Behind Bars! (Part One)**_

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The prison was deafening.

Wesker grit his teeth, holding his lunch tray and shuffling along at a near _snails_ pace on the lunch line with fellow inmates.

Well, he wouldn't call them fellow inmates. To Wesker they were more like the unfortunate souls who were trapped in a giant concrete structure with him.

Oh but how he hated the noise. A hundred ugly, inbred men yapping insistently without end. All Wesker saw in every direction were heads flapping about with nothing to say. He was beginning to consider his decision to let these fools live a mistake. A mistake he would have to rectify soon.

"Your tray, Con."

Wesker gripped the edges of his tray and watched with grit teeth a large brick wall of a man only known as 'D'. D was Wesker's cellmate and he was as dumb as he was big.

And he snored. Oh _Mama Wesker_ did the man snore.

And clip his toenails.

And pick his teeth.

Wesker bit his bottom lip. Since losing his syringe and missing his shot of the experiment virus on the _St. Wesker _Wesker's abilities had diminished. He was still strong, he was still fast, only very less so. Less than he was used to, anyway.

But his hearing, his hearing was still at peak efficiency. Of course it had to be, how else was he going to hear D jam that toothpick in between his teeth for several hours a day otherwise?

"Con! Your tray!"

Wesker snapped out of his rage trance and turned to the burly man holding a ladle of mashed potatoes with a displeased look on his face. He wore a grease stained apron two sizes too small that strained against his massive gut. He had a small paper hat that barely covered a bald spot that was glistening from sweat. The man also had a lazy eye. One eye was currently focused on his tray and the other, the lazy eye, was looking dead into Wesker's eyes. Dead into Wesker's black soul.

Wesker suddenly lost his appetite.

Shaking his head at the creature of a man, Wesker tucked the empty tray under his arm like a book and walked off to sit far away from everyone else in the cafeteria.

"Hey Whiskey."

Of course, he wouldn't be able to.

D sat down next to Wesker and put a large arm around his shoulder.

"Get your hands off me, D." Wesker said in a growl.

"Oh come on." D pulled Wesker in close and he almost gagged when he caught a whiff of D's underarms. "We cell mates. We buddies. Don't you like D?"

"No." Wesker said definitely. "I do not like D."

D pouted, moving the toothpick around with his tongue. "But D likes you, Whiskey. You're cool. =] "

Wesker had no idea how D managed to emote with his voice, but if anyone could, it was D. "D, listen. I just want to be left alone right now." He grabbed D's wrist and lifted it off his shoulders. "And its Wesker. _Wesker._"

"Whis-"

Wesker shook his head. "_Wes_"

D's face strained. "Whissss… key. =] "

Wesker buried his face in his hands. "Whatever, fine. Just, just go away, D."

D sighed, defeated. "Fine. But D is going to make you like him. D and Wesker is going to be buddies."

D rose and left Wesker alone at the table. With some measure of peace the former evil mastermind turned towards the window of the cafeteria and watched the birds fly over head. It was a terrible metaphor for freedom, but Wesker was starting to feel a measure of depression creep into his usual calm demeanor.

The fact of the matter was simple: he had to get out of here. Not only because he didn't want to be stuck with the human chaff for another hour, let alone the rest of his _life_, but because he was getting weaker.

His powers, he hated to admit, were waning. He could still hold his own, but he feared that spending even a week in this hell hole without his next shot would not be good for him.

He surmised that, eventually, he would succumb to death's embrace. An embrace he's long evaded. Something he would do everything in his power to evade again.

"Hey cracka!"

The sound of a fist pounding the lunch table brought Wesker into the present. He didn't jump, merely calmly looked across the table at the man who referred to him as a snack food.

"May I help you?"

The inmate was almost as large as D, but all muscle. A snarl curled his lips and he had small, beady eyes. He was hunched over and snorted, like a bull.

"I don't like you, pretty boy."

"That's funny." Wesker said blankly. "I guess we have something in common."

"What?"

"Tell me." Wesker reached into the sleeve of his jumpsuit and pulled out a small silver blade, a _shiv _he thought it was called. "Have you ever heard of a T-incision?"

The inmate said nothing, but his eyes darkened when he saw the blade.

Wesker raised the knife and but did not attack. He simply held it horizontally and slowly made the shape of a 'T' in the air. "Its something I developed in my field of work. You take the knife and you cut the creature from shoulder to shoulder. Then you cut from the neck down to the tail bone."

"The quickest way to skin a gorilla. From there you just peel the skin off." A twisted smile spread across Wesker's face. "You know, like a banana."

Wesker slipped the blade back into his sleeve and the inmate leaned back in his seat. "Fuckin' freak, that's what you are. I don't believe it for a minute."

He smirked. "Well, why don't you come by my cell. I can give you a demonstration."

The inmate said nothing but stood up and left, grumbling underneath his breath.

Wesker exhaled. He still had the ability to intimidate that was for sure. Prison might not be so bad if it wasn't for, _well_, everything that made it bad. Maybe he would finally be able to think of a plan for escape in peace.

"Con." Someone jabbed a thick finger into his shoulder.

Wesker grumbled and turned in his seat, he grabbed the offending finger and twisted it. "Hands off!"

POW! Wesker caught a nightstick to the face and reeled back only slightly. He did, however, let the finger go.

Wesker rubbed his jaw and looked at the fat corrections officer holding the nightstick. Oh the hundreds of ways he could kill him right here! It would have to wait, though. He would get his revenge soon enough.

"Next time you'll think twice, otherwise a bruised jaw will be the least of your problems."

Wesker glowered. "What is it?"

"A friend of yours heard you were here." The officer said the word 'friend' as sarcastically as possible. "He wants to see you."

"I know no one here." Wesker said. "You're clearly mistaken."

"He thinks differently." The corpulent CO grinned, his greasy mustache curving with his mouth. "He knows you very well."

"What's his name?" Wesker said, clearly not pleased.

"Barry Burton." The CO sneered. "CO Barry Burton."

_Oh dear, _Wesker did his best to suppress a sneer of his own. _Perhaps this prison detour will be more fruitful than I first imaged!_

_

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_

The prison bars to Wesker's cell shut with a loud clang. Wesker, his hands now free of the handcuffs, turned towards the bars and wrapped his hands around them.

"Barry!" The CO called. "The con is ready for you."

The CO winked at Wesker. "Good luck." And laughed mockingly before leaving.

But not before Wesker got a good look at his nametag: McGrady.

He added the name to his mental list of people and their families he would have to kill.

CO Barry Burton stepped into Wesker's view and Wesker tried his best not to laugh. Actually that was a lie, Wesker laughed once, very loudly, upon seeing Burton. He was dressed in the usual CO's uniform: dark blue, he wore a badge with his name on it, and a blue officer hat. He had grown a full beard. Perhaps out of depression.

"My, my." Wesker said. "What do we have here? Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Then again, you were never mighty to begin with, were you Barry?"

Burton's hand dropped, hovering over the pistol on his hip. "You're lucky I don't shoot you dead right here."

Wesker only smirked. "I could say the same. I don't appreciate you shooting me back in Arklay. Don't think I haven't forgotten about that."

"What happened to Chris?" Burton didn't seem keen on catching up on old times.

"Oh I don't know." Wesker shrugged. "Diving for pearls?"

Barry didn't say anything, but his expression darkened.

"If you'd like I can take you to him." Wesker crossed his arms. "You let me out of here and I'll make sure you and Chris can catch up on old times at the bottom of the ocean."

Burton looked speechless but after a great deal of time the Neanderthal managed to put a few words together. "I-ah.. I think I'll go out and get some fresh air for a change."

He then tapped on Wesker's bars. "Open up on 15."

Burton left and the bar's on Wesker's cell slid open. Wesker stepped out and was prepared to track down Burton. However the inmate from before blocked Wesker's view and put a large, meaty hand on Wesker's chest and pushed him back.

"I'm here freak." The inmate growled, cracking his knuckles. "You gonna show me that technique of yours?"

"Ah, I have no time to play with you, Magilla." Wesker tried to push passed him. "Maybe you should go talk to the Warden, he'll probably transfer you to the zoo when he realizes he's got a gorilla loose in his prison."

The inmate shoved Wesker back again. Wesker was growing increasingly tired of the prison, it's inmates and everyone else in it.

"Come on, white trash!" The large black inmate growled at him, holding up his fists and ready for a fight. "Lets see what your skinny ass can do."

"Are you a lawyer?" Wesker asked, lifting his fists up nonchalantly.

The inmate tilted his head at the question. "What?"

Wesker advanced immediately and drove his foot in the inmates chest. The inmate was knocked back, his head bouncing against the prison bars with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the floor, dead.

"Because you just failed the **bar!" **Wesker sneered, pleased with himself.

The celebration was short lived, however, when the prison alarms began to sound. Wesker thought briefly of simply waiting for the officers to come to him and take out as many as he could. Then again, that would be foolish. Wesker's abilities were waning fast and even though he was more than a match for anyone they would eventually overpower him. No, if he was going to make a break for it, it would have to be _now._

"Whiskey!"

Wesker placed a hand over his face when he saw D rushing over towards him. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"D I don't have _time-"_

D held up a hand, which shocked Wesker that the oaf would try and silence him! "Whiskey, you in big trouble! We hav'ta get out of here!"

Wesker's expression soured. He did not like the fact that D was delusional enough to think that they were buddies… And yet, with a man of his size he could be a decent meat shield to use if the CO's began shooting.

Wesker grinned. "All right D, lets get out of here."

* * *

Barry entered his office, hung up his hat on the hanger and sank into his chair. He was not looking forward to the news he had to break. Still, Jill was his friend and he had to make the call.

Reluctantly Barry picked up the receiver and dialed Jill's number. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, praying she wouldn't pick up the phone.

_Click. _

"_Barry, is that you?"_

Barry sat bolt upright when Jill's voice came on the phone. He cleared his throat and tried his best not to stammer. "I ah-ah-ah.. Hey Jill how are you?"

"_Well, Chris is missing. Sheva is missing. __**Wesker **__is missing. Josh barely knows how to fly a helicopter, let alone land one. I'm blonde, I have ten holes in my chest. I've spent a ludicrous amount of time not being able to control my body and have had to watch in horror as Wesker controlled my body to… to…"_

Barry's eyes widened. "To… what?"

"_That bastard can't cook. I was basically his live in maid when he wasn't sending me out to try and kill Chris. That man has an unhealthy obsession with cheeseburgers."_

"Oh… I ah-.. I see."

"_So, I'm not very good. Have you got any news?"_

"Yeah, we have Wesker in lockup."

_Jill sounded ecstatic. "That's great! Did you torture the bastard to find out where Chris was?"_

"Oh, about Chris…"

Jill was dead silent. Barry took a deep breath and winced in preparation. "Wesker said he killed him."

"_What? That bastard! I'll… I'll kill him! Why didn't you kill him!"_

"I'd love to, Jill, but that guy has a habit of… not dying when I shoot him. Besides, I'd go to prison if I did that."

Jill was about to say something, but the prison alarms went off, causing Barry to jump from his seat. The door to his office slammed open and CO McGrady poked his head in.

"Barry, it's Wesker! He's trying to escape."

"Ah hell!" Barry turned to speak into the phone. "I gotta go Jill. I'll see you at Thanksgiving!"

Barry hung up, grabbed his hat and rushed out the door.

He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

To Be Continued… In _**Wesker Behind Bars! (Part Two)**_


	3. Wesker Behind Bars! Part Two

(For the rest of this story and it's following chapters, lets just assume I don't own anything Capcom owns. =] )

_Wesker's New Life_

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_Episode Two: __**Wesker Behind Bars! (Part Two)**_

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Wesker ran down the tier's steps as fast as he could in his depowered state with D trailing right behind him. The other inmates, who were all outside of their cells at the time, were beginning a riot that Wesker felt would serve a wonderful distraction. Wesker was beginning to consider letting them live after all.

On the ground floor the gates to the rest of the prison complex swung open and a relative platoon of prison guards began to pour in with riot gear. It was at that moment that Wesker and D both reached the ground floor as well.

"This doesn't look good, Whiskey. =["

Wesker stopped abruptly when he saw the guards making their way towards him. He was trying to formulate a plan to get past them when D crashed into him. Wesker was caught off guard by this and stumbled forward. But that wasn't what ticked Wesker off:

D felt greasy as hell, like he was covered in sweat or cooking oil.

"Aw, what in _HELL_ D?" Wesker growled, shaking the grease off his arms. "You're covered in oil! Maybe your nickname should have been BP!"

Wesker smirked at this, but D only shook his head. "Too soon, Whiskey. D has a glandular problem. =("

Suddenly Wesker had an idea. He snapped his fingers and jumped behind D. Before D knew what was going on Wesker kicked him in the back as hard as he could. D shouted and fell forward, landing on his immense stomach on the ground. To Wesker's delight, he was _sliding._

"I knew you were good for something, D!"

Wesker ran a few steps and jumped on D's back. He pivoted his hips, positioned his feet apart and got into the perfect surfer's stance.

The guards had no idea how to react to this. Truthfully they had no time to react. Before they knew it Wesker and D had crashed into the group of prison guards like a bowling ball into a group of pins. Guards flew in every direction as Wesker and D slid past the gate just as it was closing and sailed down the hall.

"Haha! STRIKE!" Wesker pumped his fist in the air and hopped off of D's back. He looked up and saw they were in the staff hallway which was adjacent to the staircase that would lead them into the rest of the prison.

D slowly rose to his feet. His stomach was glistening red and his back had Wesker's foot prints on them. He groaned and scratched at his back. "Whiskey, that… was _awesome._ But D thinks you need shoes without heels in them."

Wesker's mouth twisted into a frown. "They aren't heels, D. These are designer shoes I snuck into here. Armani. But what would you know about style?"

"D knows it hurts."

Wesker waved him off. "Bah, whatever. You want to get out of here or what?"

D nodded his head. "But how Whiskey?"

"Just follow me." Wesker turned towards the staircase.

"FREEZE!"

Wesker paused and turned around. There right before him was Barry and McGrady and they both had their guns trained on him.

"You thought you were going to get away that easily, Wesker?" Barry snarled, training his hand cannon on Wesker's head. "Chris was my old partner, ya'know!"

"And so what, you're going to try and shoot me again?" Wesker sneered. "Haven't we been through this before?"

"I'll kill you if I have to."

Wesker turned to D. "Which one do you want?"

D cracked his knuckles. "D will take McGrady if that's all right with you, Whiskey."

Wesker nodded. "Sure. Mr. Burton and I have unfinished business anyway."

Barry and McGrady opened fire on the two. Wesker still had enough speed left in him to dodge the bullet and move to the side in a slight blur. D had tucked his knees into his body and began to roll across the hall like a massive boulder at McGrady.

"What the-!" Was all McGrady could get out before D rolled over him, the loud CRUNCH distracting Barry momentarily.

"No!" Barry shouted when he saw McGrady go down.

Wesker reached into his sleeve and pulled out the shiv. With expert aim he drew back and threw the blade at Barry. Barry had no time to react and the blade cut into his hand. He shouted and dropped his magnum.

Wesker took this opportunity to react. He ran at Barry full force and ducked low as he reached him, slamming his shoulder into Barry's abdomen and taking him down to the ground.

"Ugh!" Barry said before hitting his head and falling unconscious.

Wesker stood and patted his hands together as D was busy cracking the bones in his neck.

"D, I have to say, I'm impressed with your… range of movement." Wesker scratched his chin. "You will have to teach me that boulder move when we get out of here."

D clapped his hands together in excitement. "Yay! D can't wait =D. Oh but what do we do with these two?"

"Leave McGrady. He's looking a little… long in the face." Wesker snorted while looking down at the crushed CO. "As for Barry, take him with us."

"Where are we going?"

Wesker grinned devilishly. "We're going somewhere where we can give CO Burton a hell of a show."

* * *

Barry awoke just as he was being fastened into a swivel chair. "Ah! What's happening? Let me go you bastards!"

Wesker was nonchalantly checking out an electric guitar in the prison's rec room. A few feet away D was fastening Barry into the chair with duct tape.

D stood up when he was done. "This good Whiskey?"

Wesker nodded. "Good job, D. Can you put him up against the wall?"

D grabbed the swivel chair by the arms and pushed. Barry rolled across the floor and stopped when he hit the wall. He struggled against the binds but it was no use.

"Why did we come to the rec room, Whiskey? You got some kind of plan?"

Wesker nodded and picked up the electric guitar. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on the rec room door. _"Cons, if you do not open this door we WILL use force."_

Wesker shook his head and put the guitar strap over his head. "Incessant fools. No one ever realizes when they've been beat. Isn't that right, Barry?"

Barry was spitting mad, his face was red and he snarled when Wesker said his name. "You'll never get away with this."

"Who's going to stop me?" Wesker held up the guitar's cord and nodded at D. "Can you plug me in?"

D nodded and ran over, taking the guitar cord and plugging it into the amplifier right next to him.

"I'm pretty sure you'd like to, but you're all tied up at the moment. Sorry."

Barry grumbled. "I called Jill. She knows what you did to Chris. And when she finds out what you've done to me, she'll be coming for you with the full force of the BSAA!"

Wesker's expression darkened. "So you called Jill, huh? That's fine. I'm sure we'll have a nice reunion and she'll make me a cheeseburger for old time's sake. Hah!"

The pounding on the door grew louder, and it was joined with the pounding of other guards. They were trying to get in. Unfortunately for them Wesker would be long gone by then.

"D, can you set the amp over by Barry?" He grinned. "Oh and please set it to _eleven._"

D shrugged and rolled the amp across the floor, setting it up to face Barry and the wall.

"Eleven? What are you doing?" Barry's expression changed from anger to confusion and fear. "What's going on here?"

"Isn't it obvious Barry **Butthead**?" Wesker paused. "Okay, I admit, _that_ was in poor taste. I'm sorry."

Wesker cleared his throat, starting over. "Isn't it obvious? We're breaking out of here." He raised the neck of the guitar and placed his fingers on the strings. "With the power of **ROCK AND ROLL.**"

Barry gasped. "YOU MONSTER!"

Wesker motioned to D. "D… cover your ears."

D nodded and placed his hands over his ears and turned away from Wesker and Barry.

"Any requests, Barry?" Wesker waited a moment. "No? All right."

The pounding on the door ceased. Instead it was replaced with the steady, loud banging of a battering ram. Boom! Boom! The door was about to give.

"This is a little something I like to call… _Highway to Hell_ as interpreted by yours truly."

Wesker began to play the opening notes expertly, as if he knew the song by heart. The amp began to thump along with Wesker's playing and Barry leaned in the chair with beads of sweat forming on his face.

A devilish look came over Wesker's face. He grinned at Barry, then started to _sing:_

_Living easy, living free!_

_This world's on a one-way ride_

_Wanting Godhood, leave me be_

_Taking everything in my wake_

_Don't need reason, don't need rhyme_

_Ain't nothing I would rather do_

_Going down, Wesker time!_

_Your friends are gonna be there too_

The song escalated, and just as it was time for the chorus the rec room's door smashed open. With perfect timing Wesker raised his hand and brought it down on the guitar strings, hard. Barry opened his mouth to scream but it was drowned out by **ROCK.**

_You're on the __HIGH-WAY TO HELL!_

BOOM! The amp exploded taking Barry and the back wall with it. The prison shook and the guards who rushed in were suddenly blown back by Wesker's rock and roll. Bricks flew in every direction and even D was knocked off his feet momentarily.

The smoke cleared, the air stilled and all that was standing was Wesker and his guitar. He took the hanging cord out and flipped the guitar onto his back. He looked over at the pile of rubble and the hole in the wall with satisfaction. Freedom!

"You still alive, D?"

D got to his feet and patted the debris off his body. He coughed and a tiny cloud of dust escaped his large mouth. "D didn't know you could sing, Whiskey."

Wesker crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders. "I dabble." He pointed a thumb at the hole in the wall. "Well, what are you waiting for, D? You don't expect me to walk out of here, do you?"

D shook his head vehemently and turned his back on Wesker. Wesker jumped on D's back and put his arm around his neck while pointing towards the horizon. "All right, D. To freedom!"

"TO FREEDOM =D!" D began to run over the pile of rubble and out into the fresh morning air.

"Hey D," Wesker said finally, once they were far enough away from the prison. "You never did tell me why you got sent to prison in the first place."

D shrugged his shoulders, his expression became dark and he spoke in a voice completely different from how he normally spoke that actually managed to chill Wesker to the bone. "**I ate a man."**

"Okay then!" Wesker suddenly said very loudly and un-Wesker like. D slowed to a walk and Wesker jumped off his back.

"I think I can walk on my own now." Wesker cleared his throat, and his voice turned back to normal. "Thanks D."

D grinned from ear to ear and _his _voice turned back to normal, too. "No problem, Whiskey. =D"

Wesker shook his head. Life had certainly gotten interesting for Wesker since deciding to spare the world from his Complete. Global. Saturation. He only wondered how long he could last before deciding to go through with his original plan.

He glanced over at D who was busy picking his nose.

Probably not very long at all.

Still, he had to admit, it _was_ pretty fun blowing Barry up and escaping prison. Maybe his decision wasn't so bad after all.

Wesker folded his hands behind his head and relaxed a bit. "D, from here on out its smooth sailing! Let's find some new clothes and get some cheeseburgers."

"Yay! =D"

To Wesker it really did seem like the worst was behind him.

* * *

Back at the prison Jill Valentine was standing outside and looking into the hole that Wesker had made with his **ROCK AND ROLL. **"The bastard got away…"

Suddenly a guard spoke up from inside the room. "**BLOOD!** Ms. Valentine see if you can find any more clues. I'll be examining this… I hope this is not** BARRY'S** blood."

Jill put a hand over her face.

"That bastard Wesker killed Chris, Sheva… and now Barry." She slammed her fist into her palm and a determined look came over her face. "When I'm through with him Wesker is going to _wish_ he was blown up inside a volcano!"

Jill grabbed the radio on her hip and pressed a button. "Josh, how far are you with that helicopter?"

There was a moment of silence before Josh Stone's voice crackled over the radio. _"I- ah! I need five more minutes!"_

Jill shook her head. "I have the worst luck with pilots."

* * *

To Be Continued!

Next time on _Wesker's New Life: _

_**Wesker: Fugitive! **_

Wesker sat back in the diner chair as the waitress brought his and D's lunch.

"Here you go gentlemen."

Wesker practically snatched the cheeseburger off his plate and took a big bite of it.

"How is the cheeseburger, sir?"

Wesker leaned back and a large smirk crossed his face. "_So good_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ah, I hope you guys are liking it so far! But please, tell me what YOU think! I'd love to hear from the people reading this. Did you like the story? Do you want to give me some constructive criticism? Go right ahead! (This is my thinly veiled attempt at begging for reviews, haha.)

I'm already brainstorming the next chapter, check my profile page for updates and news! See ya!


	4. Wesker: Fugitive!

I want to thank **Special Agent FUNK** for agreeing to beta read this story for me. And thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Wesker's New Life

* * *

Episode Three: _**Wesker: Fugitive!**_

_**

* * *

**_

Wesker entered the alleyway and the first thing he did was grab D by the throat.

"YOU STUPID BASTARD I'LL KILL YOU."

D fell to his knees and his eyes bulged in his head. Sweat formed on his forehead and Wesker saw the color in his face turn a shade of blue. Very soon D would be dead.

D shut his eyes when the police siren blared near by. The doors of the car were slammed shut and Wesker heard shuffling feet.

"FREEZE!" A pair of police officers rushed into the alleyway and trained their weapons on Wesker. "LET HIM GO!"

Wesker looked in their direction and simply sneered.

"All right, sure." Wesker let go of D's throat. D gasped, coughed and rubbed his throat.

"STEP AWAY, PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" The officer on the right shouted.

"You mean like this?" Wesker raised his hands above his head, but curled them into fists.

"Open your hands, right now!" The officer on the left pulled back the hammer on the gun. "I wont hesitate to shoot!"

Wesker laughed, but then quickly changed his expression to 'you're gonna die' mode. "D, NOW!"

D leapt from the ground without warning, completely uninjured. He ducked, grabbed Wesker by his ankles and catapulted him straight into the two police officers.

POW! Wesker zipped through the air like a blond missile. His raised fists collided into the faces of the officers with the force of a car crash and they both crumpled to the ground instantly. Wesker then tucked his body into his lower half and executed a front flip before landing on his feet.

D raised a fist in the air and shouted in triumph. "D AND WESKER ARE THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!"

Wesker clapped his hands together and adjusted his shirt before turning back towards D. "You see? I told you it would work."

D's mood evened out and he rubbed at his throat. "Wesker has a powerful grip. Very convincing! D thought for a minute he was going to die D:"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that, D." Wesker said. "If I was going to kill you I wouldn't give you the _time _to think about it."

D did not look pleased. "D thinks Wesker needs to work on his joke telling."

Wesker shrugged. "Everyone's a critic."

* * *

Five minutes later Wesker emerged from the alley. He had changed into the uniform of one of the unfortunate officers. He patted down the officer's hat before resting it snugly over his hair.

"I have to say, I don't look half bad." He looked down at the badge he had stolen, the name read Johnson. "Shame about the name, though."

"Wesker…!" D called from the alley way. His voice seemed stressed.

Wesker rolled his eyes. "What is it now?"

D stumbled out of the alley almost completely naked. Wesker groaned and averted his eyes, but not before he caught sight of the torn slacks he was wearing.

"The cop's uniform Wesker… it doesn't fit D. ): "

"Damn it." Wesker turned around. "Curse you and your girth."

Wesker's eyes caught sight of the police car. An idea came to him.

"D, put your prison clothes back on." He motioned towards the vehicle. "I'm going to start the car."

* * *

D grunted when Wesker shoved him in the back seat of the cop car.

"Wesker! I don't want to be the prisoner!" D clenched his fists. His hands bound by a pair of handcuffs Wesker had taken from Johnson.

"Well D, what alternative do you suggest? I can't very well have a man fitting your description in prison clothes riding shotgun with me in a police uniform!"

"D can take his prison clothes off!"

"I can't very well have a NAKED MAN riding shotgun with me, period!"

"Fine." D grumbled. "But I don't like it."

Wesker didn't seem to care. "I could leave you here, if you like."

D didn't say anything. Wesker took this as compliance and shut the door. He opened the trunk and put his electric guitar inside. He shut it and entered the car on the driver's side.

Honestly, Wesker was surprised they even made it this far without much trouble. Wesker hadn't taken his shot of the experimental virus in weeks. The decline in his powers was a slow, but noticeable one. He wasn't as strong, or as fast as he was, even compared to how he felt in prison. He found himself growing tired and weak as they walked to the city. Even worse, he could almost feel his mental abilities beginning to wane. It took him longer than it should to plan their next move, and worst of all: Wesker was running out of funny things to say.

Things looked grim indeed. Still, at least they had disguises and a vehicle. The only thing left would be to head into the desert.

A voice then crackled over the police radio.

"Office Johnson, Officer Spring come in, over."

Wesker's eyes widened and glanced over at the radio. D shifted in the back seat which caused the whole vehicle to rock somewhat.

"Answer it, Wesker. Answer it!"

"I can't! They'll know something is up."

"Officer Johnson, Officer Spring, is something wrong? Were they the escapees? I'm going to dispatch cars to you, over."

Wesker jumped and reached for the radio. He cleared his throat and tried to disguise his voice. He dropped his accent and sounded distinctly American. "Johnson here. False alarm, over."

Only silence could be heard the other end. Wesker knew there was a tracking device in the car. If they suspected something they would have police on them in minutes. At this point Wesker couldn't afford another set back. His time was running out.

Finally the radio crackled to life. "Johnson you sound funny. Is Spring with you? Over."

Wesker began to sweat. Yes Wesker was actually _sweating. _"He's… er.. Getting donuts. Over."

Wesker put a hand to his face. Of all the moronic things to say!

D spoke up in the backseat. "D's hungry."

Wesker hushed him and glanced back over at the radio. In the quiet Wesker could hear his own stomach growl. He hadn't eaten in hours. Wesker didn't eat to survive, he did so out of pleasure. However, with his body reverting back to it's normal (and dead) state food was becoming a necessity. He would have to eat before they left for the desert. If he managed to fool the dispatch, that is.

The dispatch's voice buzzed over the radio and Wesker faced it with anticipation. "Oh Spring! That card! Him and his donuts… So you sure you guys are fine? Over."

Wesker exhaled a huge sigh of relief. He laughed and pressed down the button on the radio. He was so excited he forgot to drop his accent. "Yes. Looks like our problems have now been… **dispatched**."

Wesker put the radio on the hook, grinned and put his hands on the wheel. He blinked once and then quickly snatched the radio again and spoke in his American accent.

"Ah, uhm… _OVER_."

He switched the radio off and started the car. He threw the sirens on and peeled off towards the nearest diner.

"D thinks they bought it, Wesker."

"For my sake, I hope you're right for once." Wesker shook his head and scanned the buildings for a place to eat.

Meanwhile the dispatch looked at her radio with a puzzled look on her face. She shook her head and picked up the receiver.

"Can I get a patrol to check up on car Oh-Four-Two? I think Officer Johnson and Officer Spring may be in trouble. Over."

* * *

Wesker turned the wheel of the car, switched off the siren and pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

"Yay, food!" D reached for the door handle with both hands before Wesker held up his hand.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Wesker said. He leaned over and to rummage through the glove compartment.

"What? ): "

"Well it wouldn't look proper if I just waltzed into a diner and had lunch with an convict in tow, would it?"

Wesker found something and he couldn't help but smile. He pulled the object out of the glove compartment just as D made his argument.

"D thinks it wouldn't look proper if a police officer went to lunch and left his convict alone in the car."

Wesker unfolded the aviator sunglasses he found in the glove compartment and put them on. He repositioned the rear-view mirror and sneered at his reflection. He might be weaker than he was used to, but at least Wesker was beginning to _look_ like his old self again.

"Fine, you win." Wesker was in too good a mood to argue with the oaf. "We wont be sticking around for long, anyway."

* * *

The front door to the Moonlight Diner swung open and the wind chimes clattered a short song in response. All eyes were on Wesker and D as they entered.

Wesker cleared his throat and spoke in his best southern accent. "Don't mind us folks, we wont be causing any trouble."

He then jabbed D in the ribs with his elbow. "Will we, con?"

D shook his head vehemently.

A waitress rushed up to Wesker and looked concerned. "Ah, officer, is something the matter?" She caught sight of D. "Why…?"

Wesker cleared his throat again. He adjusted his belt and flashed the police badge to the waitress nonchalantly. "Nothing to worry about, miss. I ran into a bit of car trouble and I'm having the boys pick me an' ol' sasquatch up here. In the mean time, I wonder if you might oblige us with something to eat?"

The waitress seemed puzzled. "You and… him?"

Wesker shrugged and did his best to sound like he walked straight out of the Andy Griffith Show. "Sure, I'm a nice guy. I'm not so rude as to eat in front of a man and not offer him something as well. If its okay with you, that is, miss. I'll be paying so don't you worry none."

The waitress shrugged. "Ah.. Okay. Have a seat in the booth, do you know what you want?"

Wesker grinned. "Two cheeseburgers and two orders of French fries, ma'am. Thank ya kindly."

* * *

Wesker and D sat across from one another in the booth. The seats had cheap, red plastic cushions and a tiny jukebox that hid behind the condiments. The table top was slightly sticky and Wesker made a noise in disgust when his arms came in contact with it.

"Oooh. They have _Jingle, Jangle, Jingle_! :D" Was the first thing D said upon seeing the song selection on the juke box. He then fiddled with the dial like a restless five year old.

Wesker shook his head. He was glad they didn't have any money. "Just… sit still, D. People are staring."

D turned to look at Wesker. He leaned in and spoke low so only they could hear. "D didn't know Wesker was so good at fooling people. It was kind of you to offer to pay for D's lunch… D has no money ):"

Wesker shook his head. "You fool, we aren't going to pay."

D leaned back and gasped. His eyes widened. "But that's against the law!"

"Nothing gets past you, does it?"

D changed the subject. "Where do we go from here? What are you going to do with that police car, Wesker?"

Wesker shrugged. He didn't see the harm in letting D know, especially since they were traveling together now. "After we eat we're going to head into the desert. There's an old, hidden Umbrella research facility there."

"Umbrella?" D titled his head. "Didn't they make those zombies? Those are bad people, Wesker. Zombies eat people."

It was Wesker's turn to tilt his head. "**You **eat people."

Something shone in D's eyes. "I ate **one** man. And I made sure he was dead before I did it."

"Okay… back on topic." Wesker cleared his throat. "I need to head to this facility because they might still have a sample of… some medicine I need."

D reverted back to his normal self. "Medicine? For what?"

"For me."

"D: Wesker's sick?"

"No!" Wesker waved the thought away and lied, more to himself than to D. "I'm fine. I need it just in case."

"D thought Umbrella was gone. Why would Wesker's medicine be in an empty place?"

"Empty?" Wesker raised an eyebrow. "Who said the facility was empty?"

Wesker slipped back into his southern drawl when he saw the waitress arrive with their lunch.

"Ay, con, look sharp. The miss is bringing us our meal!"

D sat back in his chair and gave the waitress a bright smile. The waitress let out a nervous laugh and slowly maneuvered past him.

"Here you go gentlemen."

Wesker practically snatched the cheeseburger off his plate and took a big bite of it.

"How is the cheeseburger, officer?"

Wesker leaned back and a large smirk crossed his face. "_So good_."

"I'm glad you like it." The waitress said and made her way to another table, but not before she shot D an uneasy look.

Wesker didn't believe in heaven, but he assumed if it did exist this is what it would taste like.

D and Wesker spent the next few minutes devouring their food. They barely fit in the time to breathe in between bites. Wesker was unnaturally ravenous. He hoped the food would return some of the strength he lost, at least temporarily.

Wesker was almost finished eating when the police sirens blared through the diner. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows as the sound of screeching tires and slamming doors joined the noise of the sirens.

Wesker remained still. He held the last, tiny piece of cheeseburger between his index and thumb. D's plate was completely clean. The waitress approached them just then.

"Officer, I think they're here to pick you up."

A loud voice could be heard from the outside, amplified by a megaphone. "You two, come out with your hands up!"

Wesker sighed, popped the last bit of cheeseburger into his mouth, reached for his gun with the other hand, stood and wrapped his arm around the waitress' neck and held the pistol against her head all in one deft movement. D stood up and moved behind Wesker as the diner patrons all gasped in shock.

Wesker shouted in between bites of his burger. "NO BODY MOVE OR I WILL KILL THE WOMAN."

"It's not polite to speak with your mouth full, Wesker."

"Oh shut up, D." Wesker barked back at him.

Wesker squinted when he saw the gathering of police officers outside. Cop cars were blocking the street and it was safe to say they would be securing the back door, too. Wesker saw the officer who held the megaphone, and then noticed someone take it out of his hands. A woman.

"WESKER, IF YOU DON'T LET HER GO I WILL GO IN THERE AND KILL YOU MYSELF."

It was Jill Valentine and judging by her voice, she was **pissed**.

Wesker smiled. "Never a dull moment."

* * *

Next Time on _Wesker's New Life:_

_**Wesker's New Love**_

There was a stretch of awkward silence between the two. Wesker cleared his throat and sang softly to Kim.

"I guess you're just what I needed." He began.

In the background D chimed in. "Just what he needed! :D!"

"I needed someone to _**BLEED!**_" Wesker then abruptly stopped his singing.

"Wow, poor choice in song. I'm sorry, Kim."

Kim grimaced and motioned to the gun Wesker held against her head. "You can pull that trigger now. I think I'm ready to die."

TO BE CONTINUED!


End file.
